Twins
by agrove
Summary: Kurt gets a surprise visitor at work. Crossover w/Strike Back. Kurt Weller & Damien Scott. (Twin Verse)
1. Chapter 1

Two great shows, had to do a crossover. I have a longer crossover as well, different plot completely but wanted to see if there was any interest in the merging of the fandoms before I edited and published it since it's long.

For those that haven't seen Strike Back - Sgt. Damien Scott was played by Sullivan Stapleton. Also watch it, best show ever. Seriously, you're missing out if you haven't witnessed its awesomeness.

* * *

"What's up fucker!"

Weller froze, eyes widening as his heart began to pound. This was all just a nightmare, there was no way this was real but based off every single person in the bullpen turning to see who had just cursed across the entire room he knew he wasn't sleeping. It had been almost two years since he had seen him, about eight before that but that voice was still the exact same. A small part of him rejoiced at this person being here, the ability to see him and physically touch him, but a huge part of him was filled with dread. This man seemed to have that effect on him.

He lurched forward when he was patted on the back, grimacing as he was pulled into a rough hug. "What are you doing here?" he asked, hoping his voice came out even, his eyes on the ground at the worn boots standing toe to toe against his dress shoes.

"I'm here to see you. Fuck me, look at you! Assistant Director of the NYO, you're hot shit buddy!"

Finally looking up he stared into the mirror that was his twin brother. They were identical, alike in every single way physically possible but that's where the similarities ended. Weller had gotten the self-control, his twin had gotten the inability to mature past twenty-one. He wanted to tell him to leave, that he wasn't wanted here but he hadn't seen him in so long and even though he drove him crazy he was still his brother.

"Oh come on Kurt, don't you scowl at me. You're worse than Michael and that's saying something."

With a sigh and a glance to the heavens he began to walk back to Patterson's lab, away from everyone else's prying eyes and curious stares. He didn't advertise the fact he had a twin brother, in fact he didn't tell anyone. It wasn't shame that kept him secret, mostly, but a necessary evil for a while because of his occupation. The heat from his sibling's skin was felt on his back, his brother walking closely and the numerous footsteps from his team made him feel like he was leading a deranged train of misfits to their deaths.

Entering the lab he finally let go of some of the tension and shook his head. "You look terrible."

The man grinned, "Yeah well Africa can be kind of a bitch when she wants to be." Glancing around he whistled low in his throat, "We need a fucking crib like this." His gaze landed back on his brother and he yanked his name tag off his pocket and stared at it, holding it up and frowning heavily. "Dude look, I'm you." A small laugh caught his attention and he turned to look at the group, a petite brunette in particular.

Weller jerked it back out of his hand and reattached it, an apology in his eyes as he looked at the people he trusted the most. "This is Patterson, Reade, Zapata, and Jane," he introduced, pointing to each person. "Guys this is my twin brother, Damien."

"Do our names fit us or what?" He held out a hand and enthusiastically shook Reade's hand before moving to the ladies, his gaze growing predatory and when it fixed itself on Jane Weller cleared his throat to pull his attention back. "You seriously just came to visit me?"

"Yeah," he smirked. "You don't believe me? I mean Sarah too of course but I already saw her and Sawyer. I told her not to tell you I was here, I wanted to see your horrified face myself."

Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm not horrified, this was just unexpected."

"Isn't that what mom said when you came out?"

He was such an asshole, always had been and always would be. Growing up he had always been a pain in the ass, never bullying but also never letting anyone get even an ounce of peace. Military school had been a nightmare, Kurt getting blamed for ninety percent of the things Damien did. "You're just-"

Damien laughed mischievously, bumping his brother's shoulder. "I am aren't I? Just the whole package."

The team was having a hard time not staring, not that either could blame them. To find out that someone you've known for years has an exact copy had to be a little unnerving. Everything was the same, the eyes, the hair, the scruff, the build. Damien was more tan and in a little better shape, barely, but the main difference was the numerous cuts and scrapes on the new arrival's face, all in different degrees of healing. Unlike Kurt who now wore a suit everyday his twin seemed to favor jeans and t-shirts, the entire man less formal and uptight than the Assistant Director.

Though his older brother, by eighty-six seconds, was a disaster of epic proportions he was also, and he would never say this out loud, Kurt's hero. Damien traveled the world putting his life on the line to fight terrorists, had saved literally millions of lives and put his life on the line every single day. He supposed the same could be said about him but cockiness and self-praise had never been his thing, that was all his brother. Damien had been through the ringer more than once yet seemed to always pop up unexpectedly just as ornery as ever, all limbs intact. "How's Michael?"

"You can ask him yourself, he's at your place hanging with Sarah." Chuckling he held up his hands and made quotations. "We're on 'holiday'."

Zapata stepped forward, arms crossed across her chest. "Who's Michael?"

Damien's focus shifted to her, eyes flickering over her entire body in an uncomfortably slow manner. "My Brit." Tilting his head he shot her a sexy smile. "You have gorgeous eyes."

"Damien," Kurt warned, his brother not turning but flipping him off.

"Does that line actually work?" she scoffed, amusement at how different the siblings were growing.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged boyishly, leaning over a bit and steadily meeting her challenging eyes. "You tell me."

"Hey man, back off," Reade barked, stepping forward.

Damien shook his head, looking at Reade. "Boy you're a fun bunch aren't you? Is lack of humor a requirement for Kurt's team?" Moving to the next person he smiled at Patterson, not a leer but a true smile. "You are just adorable, like oh my God. You'd give puppies a run for their money." The woman at the end looked nervous, her light eyes skittering to Kurt every so often. "You look like fun."

"Stop harassing my team," Weller ordered, using his most authoritive voice. "How long are you here?"

Damien shrugged, "Long as Mikey and I want to be, we're on a road trip and I told them if they try to call us I will personally show them another place a comms can go."

"What do you do?" Patterson asked curiously, blushing when he smiled at her as if she were the sweetest thing he'd ever seen.

Something suddenly occurred to Kurt and he nervously asked, "Did you bring your gun in here?"

Damien stared at his brother flatly, holding out his arms and arching a brow. "Yeah Kurt, I snuck a weapon into the NYO because if there's one thing I love it's federal lockup. I left it- well that's not important but no I'm clean dude."

"Why would you have a gun?" Reade asked uneasily.

He looked to Patterson, ignoring him. "I'm in the military. A Sergeant."

Zapata's brows rose in respect and she smirked when he waggled his eyebrows. "Which branch?"

That was the end of the questions Kurt decided, too much information was dangerous for everyone. "Enough. Team get back to work. Damien, my office."

The new man did as told, following him inside and dropping down into a chair, tossing his feet up on the desk as his brother sat down on the opposite side.

Weller glared at those feet, the feet that for some reason felt the need to be on every single surface every single time he showed up. Damien had no manners, none, and it bothered him to no end. Speaking of, he watched him pull out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and pull one out with his teeth. "You're not smoking in my office."

He let his head fall back and groaned, stuffing the pack back in his pocket and sliding the single into his shirt pocket. "Fuck me, you're such a bummer." Sobering, he frowned a little and crossed his arms. "I heard about your boss, sorry buddy. That sucks. Sarah said you liked her."

"She was a good woman," Kurt said quietly. "Are you inbetween missions?"

Damien nodded, "On a well deserved vacation. We'll go back when we're ready but don't worry we'll be out of your hair in a couple days. Just wanted to see you guys."

Kurt's heart clenched a little at his tone, the smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You can stay longer." Suddenly the desk felt too large, too impersonal and he stood and walked around it, sitting down in the other chair only a foot away from his twin. "I was hoping you'd visit at some point, I missed my brother." His brother almost looked suspicious, his eyes searching for a lie before surprise registered. Had he been that standoffish towards him that he doubted he even wanted to see him? He needed to fix this. The thing with Damien was even though he was a pain in the ass there was a very real possibility that he could die on any given day and to have him die would be earth shattering, even more if he died thinking his brother didn't like him. They were twins and twins shared a bond that only other twins could understand, he didn't want this distance to be between them anymore.

"I missed you too Kurt." It was a rare serious moment and seeing as both men were terrible with their emotions he ended it quickly. "Zapata single? She's feisty, I'm liking her. Jane too, that woman is fucking hot. I'm diggin' those tattoos."

Kurt had just as good a poker face as Damien but just like everything else it all went up in flames when Jane was involved. His brother grinned, holding up his hands and announcing he'd leave that one alone, Kurt denying there was anything there.

"I didn't picture you going for all the tattoos but I don't blame you. Kinda kinky. Plus that body and those eyes? Fuck me," he groaned. "I'd have that against the wall so fast. I bet she's a screamer. Hey you think she'd go for both of us? Weller sandwich?"

"Damien!" Kurt barked, his eyes furious before he realized what his brother was doing. He had just shown all his cards without even realizing it. "Asshole."

"Dude, she's hot. Why are you not going after her?"

The pair talked about everything the past two years had entailed; Kurt sharing that he had a year long relationship but it had ended, finding Jane in the bag, the tattoos, the cases and trauma surrounding them. Damien spoke of the missions, the setbacks, getting shot, the losses they suffered. Though both men lived different lives they knew what the other felt, could feel the pain of their sibling and it was healing to share the burden between them. Time drifted on, the hours slipping away until Damien stood and stretched, winking at Zapata through the glass and biting his lip when she blew him a kiss and flipped him off.

"She'll kick your ass."

"Just the way I like 'em." Heading for the door he turned before opening it. "I'll see you at your house, I'm cooking. Also, heads up, Sarah said we could stay there. We'll sleep on the floor."

There was no way in hell he was making his brother sleep on the floor like a dog after being over seas for so long. "I'll take Sawyer's room and he can sleep with Sarah, you two can have my bed." Offering a wicked grin he looked every bit like Damien, his light eyes filled with mischief. "I know you and Michael are fuck buddies."

"Fuck me."

"Is that what you tell him?"

Damien shook his head, "You have all these people fooled but you are such a little fucker." Swinging open the door the pair walked to the elevator, Damien stepping on and Kurt staring at his brother, both mirroring the other's stance exactly.

"Don't Ask Don't Tell. I won't judge you," he said loudly.

Damien just smirked and shook his head; jumping forward at the last second and punching his brother below the belt before the doors slid shut. "Jane! Kurt lo-"

Weller stared at the closed doors that had been timed perfectly, trying to stop coughing from the assault and dropped his head.

God he hated his brother.


	2. Chapter 2

I've decided to start a twin verse. I'm going to be posting companion pieces soon to this original fic.

* * *

It isn't that Weller hates his brother, far from it actually, it's more of a general loathing. They're family, had grown up together, but as soon as they graduated they had split and never looked back for obvious reasons. One being Damien wanted to jump right into the action by joining the army and the other being Kurt had painstakingly laid out his ten year plan and had every intention of completing it to the letter. Neither had any interest in the others course of action.

There was a time he had missed his brother, hated that he had no idea of where he was or if he was still alive and then he had shown up at the door with anger in his eyes and a dishonorable discharge paper in his hand. It had gutted them both for different reasons and he had said some things he wished he could take back and then suddenly Damien was gone again, reappearing eight years later saying he was moving to Malaysia and that he'd call. He'd called once.

Once.

At first Kurt had thought he was either drunk or delusional, both highly probable, but then he kept going and it seemed more real. Damien had gotten a second chance; a new job, a new partner, a new purpose. He said he'd send postcards. He sent two.

Both were hardly legible and consisted mostly of various uses of the word 'fuck'.

And now he had returned, crashing back into his life with the gracefulness of a baby giraffe, the mouth of a sailor, and the attention span of a gnat.

"Stop looking so fucking constipated and play with me buddy!"

Friday nights were for the team to go to the local bar and unwind and somehow his brother had weaseled an invitation out of Patterson meaning they now had a very muscular Brit and the devil's offspring with them. Michael didn't really bother him, in fact he seemed to keep to himself, but he also seemed to egg on Damien in the subtlest ways. In fact what was happening right now was his fault, seeing as he had turned down an invitation to play darts and smoothly added he should ask his brother. Maybe Michael did bother him.

"Come on fucker, don't be a pussy!"

He debated chucking the bottle in his hand at his sibling's face but it probably wouldn't even faze him, Damien was the most durable person on the planet. Even Michael admitted it was alarming how many times Scott had walked away from near death experiences. His twin didn't have a guardian angel; he had a whole damn fleet.

Sighing he pushed himself up and walked to his brother, snatching the darts out of his hand with a small glare and adjusting his stance to begin the game. He hated losing, as did his sibling, and he sincerely hoped he could get out of here without being attacked or attacking him. Just as he pulled back he flinched at his brother's loud voice.

"Wait! What are the stakes?"

Weller arched a brow and looked to him, both wearing identical expressions. Zapata and Jane found it hilarious. "I win you go twenty-four hours without saying fuck."

"High stakes," he whistled in approval. "I win I get to take one of your team on a date." Seeing his brother already opening his mouth to argue he hurriedly added, "That won't end in sex. Wait. No! Shit."

"They're not prizes Damien, they're people."

Zapata shrugged, "I'm up for being a prize, how about you Jane? Patterson?"

Seeing he wasn't going to win this one his scowl deepened and he begrudgingly shook his hand while Damien asked Patterson to keep score since he had lost too many brain cells to do math. Not his exact words but close enough. Stepping back again he lined up his shot and tossed it, the dart hitting the triple twenty. He had this.

They were neck and neck, neither giving an inch and Damien had just taken the lead. Kurt had stepped forward and Damien had asked him if he thought Jane was a thong girl and that had been it. All brain function had ceased, jealousy taking over, and he missed his last dart.

That laugh was the single most irritating thing on the planet and he just couldn't ignore it. Perhaps it was the alcohol, perhaps it was the fact his brother was preening like a rooster but he simply reached over and slapped him upside the head.

Then Damien had repeated the motion.

Then they were suddenly hitting and shoving in the way they used to, with the intent to aggravate more than injure. It was like going back in time, both suddenly fourteen years old again.

"Does anyone else think this is the greatest thing they've ever seen?" Reade asked, jaw slack.

"Oh yeah," Zapata grinned, watching her boss have almost a slap fight with someone that looked exactly like him. Weller had brought himself down to his brother's level, or been dragged, and it was just as amazing as one would think.

"You're such a little fucker," Damien half-growled, trying to swat at his brother's face.

"Is that what girls say when they see your dick?" Kurt bit out, landing a hit.

And then Damien had stopped and stared at him with wide eyes, Kurt dropping his arms. "Fuck me, that was a good one. Dammit! Good job buddy." Jerking his thumb behind him he asked, "Double or nothing?"

And just like that the scuffle was over and everything was fine, Kurt fixing his shirt and Damien tossing back the rest of his drink and walking over next to Michael to order another. Weller watched them interact, saw the familiarity and trust, the unbreakable bond and though he'd never admit it he felt insanely jealous. This was his brother, his twin, and he had found someone to replace him. Why did it even matter? He loathed him. Mostly.

Grabbing the darts he waited for him to walk back over. "I win you don't say fuck for twenty-four hours _and_ you have to clean my entire apartment since you've managed to destroy it in only twenty-four hours."

"If I win my date gets to end any way we want it to."

Kurt shook his head, "No way in-"

"Wait!" he barked again, his grin making the hairs on the back of Weller's neck stand up and the normal dread start seeping in. Steeling himself for whatever was coming he frowned in confusion when Damien walked closer, stopping chest to chest and leaning forward to whisper, "I win you have to take Jane on a fucking date. A real one that she fucking knows is an actual date and you have to make a move."

Weller scoffed then to both their surprises he nudged him back and grabbed his hand. Of course he wanted to ask her but on his own terms when he felt they were ready, not because of a bet. He wouldn't lose again. "Deal."

It ended quickly. Another slap fight ensued. And to the victor went the spoils.

"Ok ladies!" Damien leered, standing in the middle of all of them. "I want you all to know that I'm taking this super fucking serious ok? I have to do what's fair."

Jane began to smile in amusement, Reade laughing, and Patterson rolling her eyes when he began with, "Eeny meeny miny moe." Letting his head fall back and laughing himself Damien waved his arms back and forth, "I'm joking! You know- I'm kind of leaning towards Jane here. What do you think Kurt?"

If looks could kill Damien would have been dead a thousand times over except they couldn't and even if they could he would be impervious due to his inability to care what anyone else said or thought. Of course he didn't want him with Jane and his mind tried to latch onto an excuse to shout out, anything to keep the worlds largest womanizer away from his precious tattooed lady. He almost blurted out his name was tattooed on her back but then it sounded like she was branded as his. Which she was. She jut didn't realize it yet. "I'm not helping you choose a member of my team as your trophy."

Damien shrugged, "Ok, then I pick Jane."

As if expecting him to leap across the group and strangle his twin everyone jerked their eyes to Weller, even Jane who looked disappointed at his lack of reaction. This wouldn't do. "No."

"Excuse me?" Damien asked in surprise, his smile growing uncomfortably wide. "Why, do you have something you'd like to say?"

He was going to shoot him, that's all there was to it. Put this whole invincibility thing to the test. "Because- if-" Shit.

Damien watched his brother struggle and waited patiently in amusement, grinning at Patterson and knowing every single person already knew what he was doing. He didn't want to take Jane on a date, well he _did,_ but this was just him trying to force Kurt's hand. Even Michael was starting to roll his eyes at the agent's refusal to just acknowledge his feelings out loud and then he had jumped up with hard eyes and Damien had spun around because they read each other that well and barely dodged a fist aimed at his head.

He had hit on the man's girlfriend. Repeatedly. And maybe sort of perhaps had a quickie with her. Weller wasn't sure if he should thank the heavens or help his brother. He voted for the former, payback was a bitch. Except his twin was a highly trained special ops soldier and this was just an angry drunk with no idea what he had just instigated. It lasted literally five seconds, ending with a knee to the face, and the man was on the floor out cold and Damien was turning back around like nothing had even happened and staring at Kurt for his reply still. Then they all got kicked out. Then yet another slap fight ensued between the brothers after Damien had asked him if he checked lost and found for his balls since they seemed to have gone missing.

Fed up with all of it he had pulled Jane off to the side, blushing furiously and just asked her. Consequences be damned. And she had smiled and said yes and suddenly he didn't loathe his brother anymore. Except there was still time for him to mess it all up again. Starting with right now, his twin turning around and walking backwards in front of the group, cigarette in his hand and smoke coming out his nose. "We still on for a date Jane?"

"As tempting as it is," she smiled wryly, "I'm going to have to pass."

Flipping off his brother he looked to everyone else. "All right fine. Let's see here. Patterson, you're fucking adorable. Reade, too tall for me buddy. Zapata, baby, go out with me tomorrow night." Holding out his arms he kept walking backwards in front of them, by some miracle not tripping.

"Call me baby again and I'll knock your teeth out."

"I'm taking that as a yes."

"Light pole," Kurt called out.

Jumping to the left he grinned. "Thanks bro."


	3. Chapter 3

"What's up buddy?"

Weller's voice caught in his throat, brows lifting and jaw dropping as surprise filled him. His mind told him to turn around, to acknowledge the person standing closely behind him but he was afraid that if he did he might realize it's all a dream and he couldn't do that to himself. There was also the terrifying possibility that something horrible had happened, that he was back because he had been forced from a permanent injury. It had been almost two and a half years since he had said goodbye, waving to him as he flipped him off from a helicopter that had landed in the middle of the road to pluck he and Stonebridge from their vacation and throw them back into the frying pan.

He was patted on the back and tensed in preparation for the rough hug but it never came, the hand instead falling away after only a moment. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice mostly even, a small waiver of emotion sneaking out on the last word.

"It was time."

Forcing himself to turn he began his assessment at his feet and worked his way up, anxiety filling him as he searched for maims. His boots were still worn, his blue jeans clean and relaxed, his shirt a button up with the sleeves rolled up. Damien's hands contained all ten fingers, as well as numerous cuts and scrapes, and it was only because he was his brother he could tell he was favoring his side. Sucking in a steadying breath he followed the scruff up his jaw and finally over his face before settling on his eyes.

For identical twins they were as different as night and day, one the parent and one the child, one forever a rebel and one always obedient. Damien held all the zest for life, the need to live every single day to its full capacity, and Kurt tended to remain cautious and skeptical, thinking things through before perusing them. This was why it nearly crippled him to stare into the eyes that usually sparkled with exuberance looking so _empty._

With a small nod he began to walk to his office, the team moving to follow but Kurt waving them off subtly. He moved close to his brother, watching his back and hoping his close proximity was providing at least some sort of comfort or security because something was inherently _wrong._

"You look terrible," he commented bluntly, shaking his head.

Damien crossed his arms and offered a small shrug, "Well life will do that to you sometimes."

Whatever happened had been bad was all Kurt could gather. There was a bandage wrapped around his left forearm peeking out from the cuff of his rolled sleeve, stitches littered his forehead and numerous scrapes lie across his ear and neck. This man was durable, supernaturally so, but something had hurt him _inside_. His eyes were blank, his shoulders slumped, and his smile yet to be seen. That alone was cause for alarm but what solidified it was when Zapata winked and Damien only offered a weak wave.

"Is Michael ok?" The words needed to be said, the question had to be asked but he hated that he had to do it. His words sounded loud and forced despite being soft and unsure and he winced involuntarily.

Damien nodded, "In London doing Brit shit."

"You're here alone?" he blurted. Damien never left Michael's side; they were attached in every sense of the word. In fact Kurt had to fight down his jealousy knowing his brother had found someone else to be at his side, replaced him in a way despite him knowing deep down that wasn't what it was. The Yank and the Brit were a team for the ages and he honestly didn't think they could get much closer unless they really did start sleeping together like he had joked about long ago.

The silence was unnerving, magnified by the fact that he didn't think he had _ever_ seen Damien not talking. His brother spoke all the time about anything and everything, providing those around him with a running commentary despite no one wanting it.

"Did you know Sarah moved out?"

"Do now."

Kurt was at a loss in what to do, in how to handle someone that had essentially become himself. He knew he wasn't easy to deal with but it was becoming very obvious that it was impossible to decipher ones thoughts when they remained so neutral. The small tremble that began to overtake the silent man made Kurt make a decision, hoping it was the right one. "How long have you been up?"

Damien twisted his wrist and stared at the black watch face, "Fuck, like twenty-nine hours? We finished the mission and some flyboys gave me a lift in a cargo plane. Hitchhiked here."

"Why don't you lie down on the couch for a bit?"

He pulled the blinds closed and clicked off the light, staring as his sibling sat down and gingerly kicked his feet up, wincing and clutching his midsection before relaxing a hair and closing his eyes. There was a pull there but he was trying to ignore it, to give his twin some space, but he wasn't sure if it was the thing to do. He hadn't felt this much doubt since finding Jane; it was always a minefield trying to care for independent people. Giving up he walked over and watched pain twist Damien's features.

"Ribs?"

"Bullet."

"Another?"

"Yeah."

Grabbing the hem of his shirt he raised it and saw the white bandage on his side, it must have been a graze and a deep one based off the obvious tenderness. Yanking off his jacket he rolled it into a ball and tucked it under his side, propping him up and alleviating some pain. Satisfied he stepped back and headed for the door.

"Julia died. They're _all_ dead."

The pain in those two words nearly brought him to his knees. In an unprecedented occurrence Damien had called him twice this year, mostly cursing and giving him a hard time, asking if he'd fucked Jane and if Zapata asked about him, but he had surprised him by telling him that he had hooked up with one of the soldiers in 20, that he might actually _love_ her.

And now he had lost her. "I'm sorry Damien."

"Me too Kurt," he whispered before turning his head, ending the conversation.

Opening the door he walked past the team's questioning eyes to the stairs and leaned his forehead against the cool cement walls, his hands balling into fists and pressing against it as he tried to breathe, tried to function now that he was sharing his twin's crippling pain. It was a black hole in his very soul and what hurt the most was that he had known something happened. Two months ago he had been filled with a horrible sense of dread, had even grabbed his phone and hovered his thumb over the unlock button but decided against it, feeling like he was overreacting. Or perhaps it was fear that had stopped him.

He should have called.

Damien lay awake in the office, acutely aware of how alone he was. The noises around him did nothing to help him, instead filling him with anxiety at the unfamiliar voices. Kurt's office door swung open but it wasn't Kurt who walked through. "Here for a quickie?" he rasped.

Zapata smiled softly and sat down on the coffee table, meeting his eyes and simply staring. She knew this look, had seen in before on many soldier's faces but it was beyond bothersome to see it on this one. Damien was forward, she was too, and so she grabbed his hand in hers and ran her thumb over his raw knuckles despite them not having seen each other since their date over two years ago. "I'm not going to ask what happened, and I'm not going to pretend to understand, but whatever did happen I'm sorry. You want to talk? I'm here. You want silence? I'll be quiet."

"You're pretty fucking cool Tasha."

"And gorgeous."

"And gorgeous." A ghost of a smile appeared and he let out a soft breath, thankful for the contact and distraction she was providing. "Kurt and Jane fucking?"

She grinned, "Yeah, and they think we don't know. Like we're all oblivious. It's kind of insulting. They went on that date then they both panicked until a month ago."

At this he really did smile, even letting out a small chuckle. "He seriously managed to fuck up after the date? Fuckers been walking around with fucking blue balls for years. Fuck me."

Zapata lifted her other hand and massaged his palm, her thumbs sliding over the numerous scars and callous'. "It's like listening to Shakespeare."

"Oh fuck you Tasha."

She laughed, "You wish."

Kurt reentered his office having collected himself and was stunned to find Zapata holding his brother's hand, sharing laughs and lightly flirting. He felt stupid that he hadn't realized what he needed, that he hadn't helped at all. Damien wasn't him, he didn't need quiet and calm he needed distraction and fun. He would deal with everything when he wanted to, he had a feeling it was going to happen sooner rather than later, but for right now he just needed to feel _normal._

"Seriously you two?"

Zapata smirked and Damien laughed, the sound the sweetest thing Kurt had ever heard. "Come on bro, I'm irresistible."

"Not the word I'd use," he grumbled, flipping on the light and moving to his desk. Damien's mood lifted and just like that everything was ok for right now, his crumbling sibling taped back together for the time being. He felt thankful for Zapata, the woman able to give him what he needed, and he was once again reminded how much his team cared for him and vice versa. Damien was nothing to them but he was everything to him and therefore they cared too.

"Hey bro?"

Kurt's head snapped up, eyes narrowing at Damien and Zapata's too innocent expressions. "Yeah?"

"When you and Jane have sex is she the man?"

Dropping his face into his hands he shook his head, trying to ignore the sound of a high five coming from the couch.

He'd be ok.


End file.
